A Very Different Story
by 4sanine
Summary: Post-6th year, Harry tells Ron and Hermione the true story of Dumbledore's death. At Dumbledore's request, Harry and Draco Malfoy plotted his murder together and formed an alliance key to Voldemort's downfall.
1. Chapter 1

The sky was grey and dripping, and the compartment windows of the Hogwarts Express were foggy and chill. Harry hugged his knees in closely, pulling them up to his chest. He removed his glasses and allowed his eyes to press into his legs, his breath hitching with every bump of the train. He could feel Ron and Hermione's eyes on him, trying to be patient out of politeness. Their curiosity was understandably palpable. Finally, Hermione tentatively broke the silence.

"Harry," she said cautiously, reaching out gently to take his arm. He could feel her body relax when he didn't jerk away. "Please, we're not mad at you. I just- I don't really understand." She broke off, searching for the right words.

"She's right, mate," Ron said, filling in her silence. "I mean, can you blame us, really?" He laughed humorlessly. "It'd be a lot easier for us to help you if you told us everything."

"I don't need your help," Harry muttered into his knees.

"Oh, knock it off, Harry," Ron said shortly. "You still need to find the Horcruxes and you're still just as clueless with Dumbledore dead now. That much hasn't changed."

"I don't think you understand," Harry said, jumping from his seat. "I don't want your help. I don't want to have to look at you and see your stupid looks every time I say something. Not after what I've done." He heard Hermione sniffle, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Please, Harry, explain then," she whimpered, her eyes glassy with tears. "Sit down, Harry, please. Just talk to us."

The fact that his friends forgave him made his guilt even stronger, made him want to push them away even more. Yet he knew he owed them this. He owed them an explanation. Slowly he sat back down and looked into Ron and Hermione's questioning eyes.

"It started at the end of May, right before the House Cup. You were throwing up again, Ron, and I don't really remember where you were Hermione, but I was alone on the seventh-floor corridor trying to see what Malfoy was up to." He saw them look at each other uncomfortably at the mention of the name. Harry chose to ignore this. "His name wasn't showing up on the Map, so I assumed he had gone back to the Room of Requirement, but then I saw him alone in a boys' bathroom downstairs."

He paused for a moment, trying to remember all the tiny details he was sure

Hermione would drill him on later if he forgot to include them. He recalled looking at the Map more closely, and the shock that overcame him when he noticed that Malfoy was not with Crabbe or Goyle, but with Moaning Myrtle. Harry only stopped staring at this unlikely coupling when he walked right into a suit of armor. The loud crash brought him out of his reverie; hurrying from the scene lest Filch turn up, he dashed down the marble staircase and along the passageway below. Outside the bathroom, he pressed his ear against the door. He could not hear anything. He very quietly pushed the door open.

Harry could see the white-blonde hair of Draco Malfoy standing over the sink, shaking with chills of anxiety as Myrtle tried to comfort him from one of the toilet stalls.

"No one can help me," Malfoy whispered, silencing Myrtle's failed attempts to calm him. "I can't do it...I can't...It wont work...and unless I do it soon...he says he'll kill me." Stunned, Harry realized the boy was sobbing, taking great shuddering gulps as tears slid down his pale face. Malfoy stood up straight, wiping the tears from his face in an attempt to regain his composure when he saw Harry standing behind him through the cracked mirror. Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways and threw a jinx at Malfoy, but he simply blocked the spell and raised his wand to attack again.

Myrtle screamed in anguish, her voice echoing loudly in the bathroom, yet the battle between the two boys continued in fury.

The spells were smashing into walls, sending the tiles smashing to the ground; one of Harry's hexes missed Malfoy narrowly, slamming a toilet instead and sending a fountain of water streaming into the air. Malfoy slipped backwards on the water sending a curse at Harry in panic, " _Cruci-"_

 _"_ _SECTEMSEMPRA!"_ Harry roared, dodging the curse and falling heavily to the floor.

Dots of blood erupted on Malfoy's body, sending him tumbling backwards to the water soaked floor with a crash. Spells were no longer flying, but the room seemed louder then ever. The toilet was still gushing water in a fury and Malfoy was shaking and moaning in panic as the blood flowed from his chest and melted into flowery blooms in the water surrounding him.

"No - I didn't -" Harry gasped, staggering and sloshing through the water before he fell to his knees beside Malfoy. Myrtle then flew to the ceiling and let out a blood-curdling scream: "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

Harry paused his story for a moment, glancing up at Ron and Hermione, who looked saddened at their friend, but still confused.

"Yes, Harry," Hermione said, taking pause before saying something that might set him off again. "But you've already told us all of this. Snape heard Myrtle's cries, came running to the bathroom to find you over Malfoy's bleeding body, and, well..." she hesitated as if to say "Please, Harry, get to the point." He simply shook his head.

"That's what Dumbledore wanted me to say," he said softly, letting this shock wash over Ron and Hermione.

"What?" Ron gaped.

Harry had known that some day, he would have to tell his friends the truth, yet that would mean their realization that he had lied to them. He had told them that Snape was the one who had stormed into the bathroom that day, but the reality was quite different.

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!" bellowed Myrtle. The doors burst open, and Dumbledore stepped in, the look of fury on his face beyond anything Harry had ever seen in his life. He took one look around at the bathroom and the blood and at Harry crouched over Malfoy's body as he pulled out his wand and traced it gently on Malfoy's chest. As Dumbledore muttered an incantation, the blood seemed to absorb back into his body and invisible sutures pulled his skin back in place. When he was finished, there was no evidence of the violence that had taken place, save the few blossoms of blood that still floated in the water on the bathroom floor.

"Sir -" Harry gasped, "I didn't mean to...I didn't know what the spell..."

"Come with me Harry," said Dumbledore, rising from the ground and lifting Harry up by his arm. He waved his wand, and the magic lifted Malfoy and carried him along behind Dumbledore, as though pulled by an invisible stretcher.

Dumbledore led them through the castle without saying a word. Whether or not magic was involved, Harry was glad that no one noticed the strange party.

"Sir, please," Harry said, walking quickly to keep up with Dumbledore's long strides.

"Not now, Harry," he said, and Harry noticed they were approaching the doors to the hospital wing. At the entrance, Dumbledore held out his hand to signal Harry to stop, and proceeded inside the large chamber with Malfoy in tow. Harry watched as he led him to the back of the wing where he laid him on an empty bed before exchanging a few words with Madam Pomfrey and drawing the curtains around the bed. Seeing Harry eyeing him eagerly, he beckoned him inside and sat down on a nearby bed. He patted the mattress next to him to motion Harry to sit too.

"Harry, I must say," Dumbledore began, "I would have thought you would have been wiser than to use a spell of which you had no idea of the consequences."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, his anxiety alleviated by the knowledge that Dumbledore knew he had not intentionally injured Draco Malfoy.

"I know, sir, but Malfoy's up to something, and I found him in the bathroom crying. He was saying that he had to do something or he was going to die. Sir, I think Voldemort's given Malfoy a task, and he's going to kill him if he doesn't complete it soon." He knew this accusation was a risky one, but to his surprise, Dumbledore did not chastise him for this conclusion like the other professors had.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, pushing his spectacles further up his nose. "Well, Harry, I'm afraid you're not wrong. Having so many different ears in so many different places, I have the privilege of knowing that yes, Lord Voldemort has given Draco Malfoy a rather unfortunate job to carry out. You see, he was not happy when Lucius failed to steal the prophecy from you last spring. This is, I believe, his way of punishing the Malfoys. He knows that Draco will fail the task, and he knows they understand his threat is not an empty one."

"His threat?" Harry questioned. "You mean, he's really going to kill Malfoy?" He felt his stomach lurch. The two boys might have been on opposite sides of the battle, but Harry certainly did not want to see him dead. "How does he know Malfoy can't succeed?" A second question more disturbing question entered his mind. "Do we want him to succeed?"

"You've always had a knack for asking the right questions, Harry," said Dumbledore, glancing off into the wide expanse of the wing. "And to answer the first one: yes. Lord Voldemort will make sure to it that the boy is dead. I know you're no stranger to his lack of mercy and he would use this murder as a way to insure that none of the Death Eaters' loyalties falter. The answer to your second and third questions are a bit more complicated. You see Harry, you and Draco Malfoy are two sides of the same coin. Both abused, both forced to make decisions far beyond your years, both living in fear of what Lord Voldemort could do to the people you love. Voldemort knows Malfoy will fail because he sees him in you, and he knows you would never be up to the challenge."

"What exactly is the challenge, Professor?" Harry asked, feeling slightly itchy at the idea of being compared so similarly to Draco Malfoy.

"Well, Harry, Lord Voldemort has assigned Draco Malfoy the job of murdering me," said Dumbledore calmly.

Harry felt like he had been hit upside the head with a broomstick. "What?" he bellowed, rising to his feet.

"Quiet, dear boy, we are in an infirmary," Dumbledore whispered, as though completely unfazed by the bomb he had just dropped.

"You know Malfoy's been asked to kill you, but you're not doing anything about it?" gaped Harry in shock. Now he could feel the anger welling up inside him. "You've been allowing him to prance around the castle all year preparing for this! Why didn't you try to stop him, expel him?"

"Harry, Harry," Dumbledore said gently, laying his hand on his shoulder. "You do not seem to understand. I have said quite clearly that Draco Malfoy will fail." He paused for a moment. "But, it is quite nearly my time to go anyways."

Harry looked up puzzled. "I'm sorry sir, I don't really follow you."

"No, Harry, I apologize. I've been rather vague this afternoon I fear. You see, Draco Malfoy is not capable of killing me, for as menacing as he seem, his body does not carry an ounce evil. But, he must do it or he will die. I'm growing old Harry. There are things it is not yet time for you to know or understand, but my time here is nearly done. Draco Malfoy must kill me, and you must be the one to help him."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry paused, allowing this new addition to his story to sink in. It had the expected effects. Hermione once again looked on the verge of tears while Ron was gaping open-mouthed, seeming unable to form any coherent sounds.

"That's why you did it then, didn't you?" Hermione asked softly as the first tears fell down her cheeks. At the moment, Ron seemed unable to do anything other then mouth the words "bloody hell" in a continuous cycle.

Harry gulped and nodded. "There's more though. There's something else I need to tell you."

"No," said Harry loudly, earning him a reproachful look from Madam Pomfrey from across the wing. "I'm sorry Professor, but how could you possibly think that I'd - no."

"This isn't a request, Harry," said Dumbledore in a far more stern tone than he'd previously been using. "If we have any chance of destroying Lord Voldemort, you must do exactly as I say. You will tell no one of this conversation. You will tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger that Snape was the one who found you in the boys' bathroom, healed Mr. Malfoy, and punished you severely. In a moment, I will leave you and fetch Professor Snape to inform Mr. Malfoy of this new turn of events. From this point forwards, the two of you are in this together." He got up to leave, patting Harry gently on the shoulder.

"Sir?" Harry said, the words catching in his throat. "Why me?"

Dumbledore was moving away from him to the doors of the hospital wing. "Because Harry, you alone possess the power to save Mr. Malfoy from his terrible fate. Your love has the power to save even your greatest enemies."

Dumbledore slipped quietly out the door, leaving Harry alone on the end of the bed deep in thought. He knew Dumbledore was never straight forward, yet he could not begin to imagine how this could play out to their advantage. Finding the Horcruxes would be difficult enough even with Dumbledore still alive and Harry had no clue even how to begin that journey. A new emotion now entered into him, one of grief that quickly melted into a quiet rage. How could Dumbledore expect him to aid in his murder with no explanation as to why or how or what Harry would need to do to defeat Voldemort after his death? He had said there were things that Harry could not begin to understand just yet, but he felt like he was owed a bit of an explanation. And then there was the question of aiding Malfoy. The thought of befriending the boy for the task of murdering the sole man that held the knowledge to defeating Voldemort was not a pleasant one. Worse still was the fact that he could not tell Ron and Hermione about this.

"Bloody hell, he actually asked you to _help_ Malfoy murder him?" he could imagine Ron gaping. "I mean, there has to be a reason he's asking you to do this, right? Dumbledore's a loony git, that's for sure, but he usually plans ahead."

"No, I can't really imagine why," said Hermione in his head. "But Ron's right, Dumbledore usually has a method behind all his madness. It seems like an odd request, but I'd trust him, Harry. I'm sure there must be something good that'll come out of this in the end, there has to be."

As weak as this imaginary advice seemed, it soothed Harry just enough for him to fall back on the bed, exhausted, and fall asleep.

It seemed to be only minutes later when he was awakened by a sharp nudge on his side from Madam Pomfrey. She looked tired and on edge.

"Professor Snape just left Mr. Malfoy," she said, bustling about Harry in an attempt to sit him up and flatten down his hair. "He asked me to send you in to speak with him immediately." Harry felt a large lump appear in his throat that he was not able to swallow. She pointed off in the direction of Malfoy's bed on the far end of the hospital wing. "He's over there, dear. Best go over now and get this over with." Harry stood up, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. The walk to the other boy's bed was only several feet, but the journey felt like a mile. Reaching the bed, Harry pulled a chair up to the edge and sat down awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Malfoy, who was struggling to prop himself into a sitting position.

"Potter," he groaned tiredly. "Thanks for the near death experience. As if you don't already make my life difficult enough."

Harry thought back to what Dumbledore had said about the threat that Malfoy was facing at the moment, and decided to bite back a retort.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, finally looking into Malfoy's somber eyes. "I might hate you, but I didn't want to kill you." For the first time, Harry felt a kind of sympathy as he looked at the other boy.

"I know why you're here," said Malfoy, breaking the eye contact to look down at his hand below the sheets. "You're supposed to help me kill your precious Dumbledore. And I don't trust you, never mind what Professor Snape says."

"I'll swear to it. I promise." said Harry, regretting the words as soon as they spilled from his mouth. Malfoy arched his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really?" he breathed. "You'd make the Unbreakable Vow?"

It was too late to back down now. He'd promised Dumbledore he would aid Malfoy, and it appeared that this might be the only way to gain his trust. Harry tried to push down the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea as he nodded his head.

"Really, Potter, I'm surprised," he sneered, grabbing his wand from the bedside table. "Take my hand then, if you insist." He held his right hand out to Harry. Grudgingly, Harry clasped his hand in his own. "Scared, Potter?" he jeered, as he waved his wand and thin tendrils of smoke wrapped themselves in intricate knots around their hands.

"I wouldn't act so full of yourself, Malfoy," Harry retorted. "After all, you need my help if you want to see your Mummy and Daddy again at the end of the school year." He could see him wince at this jab, yet his hand did not break away from Harry's grip.

"Do you, Harry Potter, promise to aid Draco Malfoy in his mission to kill Professor Dumbledore?" Malfoy asked.

Harry faltered. "I - I do." The smoke pulsed orange like a flame. His fate was sealed. Malfoy's eyes widened.

"And do you promise to help him to the fullest of your abilities, even if that means putting your own life on the line?"

"I do."

The smoke pulsed once more and burned sharply into their hands. Both boys looked at each other coldly.

"Well Potter, I guess we're in this together now," Malfoy said, slowly pulling his hand loose. Harry rubbed his wrist, pretending to ignore this comment.

"You made the Unbreakable Vow?" Ron stuttered. "With Draco Malfoy? Harry, that's like the most powerful bond you can make with someone, and you make it with Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh, be quiet Ron," Hermione scolded. "He only did it because that's the only way he could earn his trust, right Harry?"

"Yeah," he nodded. In the nights since they had made their vow months ago, Harry could still feel the tingling where the tendrils of magic had burned themselves into his skin.

"So you made the Vow, and then you plotted Dumbledore's death with the foul git?" Ron asked, sounding utterly appalled.

"Don't you dare pin this on me!" Harry snapped, Ron's words still stinging the raw wound. "Dumbledore made me promise to help Malfoy kill him; it was literally his dying request. After all Dumbledore had done that year to prepare me for finding the Horcruxes, he wouldn't just die without putting everything in place. This has to fit into his plan somehow, that's the only way I could reason. His death must be a necessary event for me to be able to defeat Voldemort in the end."

"So all those nights you left Hermione and I in the Common Room saying you were looking for Malfoy...?" Ron asked, sounding wounded.

"I was really helping him, yeah," said Harry, feeling his words plunge into his friends like knives.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a sunny afternoon near the end of May, and Harry and Malfoy were propped up against the Vanishing Cabinet buried deep within the depths of the Room of Requirement. After successfully vanishing an apple to Borgin and Burke's, the two boys were waiting in silence for the help on the other side to send it back.

"Can you imagine what your Death Eater friends would say if they knew that I was helping you with this?" laughed Harry, trying to lighten the tense mood. They had mutually decided that it would be beneficial to both parties if they kept this new comradery a secret. To his surprise, Malfoy did not crack a smile at the joke. Instead, he stared solemnly off into the distance.

"They'll find out in the end," he murmured. "And then I won't only be a coward, I'll be a traitor. Too weak to complete the one job given to me without the help of the enemy."

This jab struck Harry harder than he would have expected it to. "Hey," he said, turning to look Malfoy in the eyes, "it's still hard for me to understand why exactly I'm helping you. But it's not hard for me to say you're not my enemy."

"Fate played us a cruel hand, Harry," Malfoy responded. Harry blinked in shock. Never before had the boy called him by his first name. It felt odd, yet strangely...normal.

"Not 'Potter' anymore, eh?" Harry joked.

"Nah," said Malfoy. "You're right, we're not enemies anymore. It's time we stopped acting like we are. The Dark Lord's the real enemy. He's the one who's torturing my family, putting me through all this."

"You know, you're right," said Harry finally, a new conclusion dawning on him. "I think I've figured out why Dumbledore wanted me to do this, at least why he wanted us to work together. Some how, some day soon, you're going to be key in helping me defeat Voldemort. I just had to realize that you were on my side all along."

Malfoy looked as if he were about to say something in reply when the Vanishing Cabinet began to glow and vibrating, causing the boys to jump to their feet in excitement. Harry gently opened the door, and there, with a bite nibbled from the side, was the apple.

"It worked," he breathed, taking the apple out and showing it to Malfoy, who took it and began examining it intently.

"We're almost ready," he replied. "This is almost over."

They looked at each other intently, and Harry could tell that Malfoy shared the same feelings as he did regarding this latest success. They were that much closer to accomplishing the task. Harry's gut squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of the Death Eaters sneaking into Hogwarts through the passage he had helped create with the Vanishing Cabinets. Even though Dumbledore had expressly asked -demanded- that Harry helped Malfoy plot his assassination, he couldn't shake off the deep feeling of shame and treason.

"Hey, Potter," said Malfoy, putting his hand on his shoulder, "we're in the together."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied glumly, shaking off his gaze and letting his eyes fall to the ground.

"No, afterwards I mean. This...this is going to change us." Harry looked up, startled to see tears appearing in the corners of Malfoy's eyes. "We're going to need each other to get through this nightmare. You don't murder someone and get to live the rest of your life without the demons following you everyday. We may not be friends, Harry, but we're still going to need to lean on each other after this, like it or not."

He nodded in reply, the truth of Malfoy's words hitting him hard. _You don't murder someone and get to live the rest of your life without the demons following you everyday._

"It just feels I'm betraying him, you know?" he ventured. "Even though I have to do this. I have to kill him in order to save you. It's what he wanted."

The expression on Malfoy's face changed quickly from fear to one of puzzlement.

"What'dya mean 'to save me'?" he asked.

"Dumbledore said you needed someone to help you. He said you wouldn't be able to do it on your own." Harry recognized the look on Malfoy's face; one of confusion at the words of Albus Dumbledore. He himself had held the same face many times before. "Hey...hey, that's a good thing...not being able to kill someone, I mean. It means you're not like your family. You're better than them."

"No," Malfoy retorted, shaking his grip from Harry's shoulder. "It means I'm weak and Dumbledore knew it. Hell, my own family knew it. I bet that's why Snape's been following me around all year. My poor mother forced him to help her weak, worthless son with a task he couldn't do!" He slammed his palm against the side of the Vanishing Cabinet, sending a loud, hollow thud throughout the room. He was shaking with rage and the tears in his eyes were unmistakable now.

"Malfoy-," Harry began, feeling now extremely uncomfortable at the sudden outburst he had initiated, but Malfoy rounded on him. His eyes were wild with fury and his pale skin was stretched tight across his face.

"Famous Harry Potter came to save the day again, didn't he?" he bellowed. "You don't deserve half the fame those idiots give you; you're nothing but a coward!" Harry looked at him, shocked. The words coming out of Malfoy's mouth seemed extremely unjust given their current situation. "You're too weak to stand up to Dumbledore and tell him you're not willing to kill him! But it doesn't matter if you do though, does it, because at least you'll save someone's life!"

Harry's bewilderment turned to anger at this new accusation. "You don't know what you're talking about," he barked back, though Malfoy's words stung him harder than he cared to admit. It was true: he hadn't bothered trying to find a way to get around Dumbledore's murder. Just as Malfoy had said, he had taken solace from the fact that his mentor's death would be his doing with the fact that at least Draco Malfoy would be saved.

"Fine!" Malfoy shouted at him. "I don't need your help Potter. I'd rather fail than bet my life on a coward like you," he spat, turning on his heel and storming from the room.


End file.
